


Stars on the canvas

by PerriewinkleNerdie



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerriewinkleNerdie/pseuds/PerriewinkleNerdie
Summary: It's not a date (it totally is)
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart)
Kudos: 19





	Stars on the canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello! How are we feeling, how's the wife, how's the kids? I rewrote the ideas for this fic at least three times, cause *nothing* was feeling right. And then I got smacked with this... something, yeah, let's call it that.   
> Enjoy! <3

„Let’s get those tests run in the morning. Great job, now go home and get some rest. We’ll pick it up tomorrow.” His glasses landed on the table as he said that, gathering the papers that got scattered around him during the meeting.

June was the first one to stand up, leaning down to whisper something to Claire, both of them laughing, after which, she left. Baz was next, bumping fists with the youngest doctor on the team along with throwing a cheesy joke as he walked out of the room.

She hasn’t moved yet, keeping her eyes on research in front of her. She was determined to make sure she had all the facts in her head, that nothing escaped their attention and that she could pick up the case tomorrow morning when she got to work. Her focus, however, suddenly started to falter, at the exact moment in which she felt a pair of eyes on the side of her face. He didn’t say a word, just looked at her in perfect silence.

Claire only intended to look at him for one moment, but as their gazes met, she found herself unable to look away, being locked in a stare that could swallow her whole. Blindly, she closed the book she was reading, then reclined in her seat, a subtle question in her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” it seemed like a simple enough question in her head, but as soon as she said it, she realized that it was far more complex. Ethan’s face, previously blank and stoic, was now lit up with a gentle smile, reaching and overtaking his blue eyes.

The openness of his actions was surprising to her, even more when he, very hesitantly, like he was afraid she’d run away if he made a wrong move, allowed their fingers to brush against one another before tangling them together, equally slowly and delicately. Claire looked at their hands, her face mirroring his.

It wasn’t an unwelcome move on his part, just a bit unexpected. Some time has passed since the night of the game; since the walls he’d put in place had crumbled like his ability to deny what he very clearly was feeling. While it allowed him to sleep easier at night, without the constant burden of the everyday struggle, it hasn’t meant that he did anything specific about it since that evening. Yes, they were comfortable around each other once again; yes, smiling came easier to him; yes, he’s been thinking about kissing her more than he was willing to admit. Now that he was thinking about it, maybe it was time to do something.

“At what time does your shift end?” he asked, looking up at her. She glanced at the clock on the wall behind him, then brought her gaze back onto him.

“Ten minutes ago.” Her reply was colored by a cheeky grin that got even wider when Ethan smiled mischievously, standing up without letting go of her hand. “Why?”

\----------

At first, there was almost complete darkness; so much so, that she could barely make out the outlines of her surroundings. Then the stage lights pierced it, clean lines cutting the dim cloth into pieces. Music joined in soon after, coming in stages. A lone piano, its notes jumping gently across the air; then the strings, weaving their way in between the melody, one by one. Drums appeared later, just in time to uphold the harmony and carry it on. People around them were engrossed in the story from the moment it started, and as actors began appearing on stage, one could see how everyone leaned forward, utterly captivated.

_The Opera House._

Claire hasn’t learned Italian since the last time she was there, so the moment the play started, Ethan leaned in and started narrating it for her. It was one of his favorites; that’s why he’s seen it a couple of times. That allowed him to translate and describe to her what was happening on stage without having to look away from her or focusing on it too much. It was the two of them, the music, and his voice in her ear.

Ethan’s full attention was captivated by the way she was engaged in the play while listening and registering what he was telling her. Her facial expressions, the sparkle in her eye, how her fingers tapped on the arm rest of her seat to the beat of the piece they were hearing; they were all casting a spell on him, and what started as him being relatively far away from her, ended with his lips brushing against the shell of her ear with each word he spoke. He couldn’t really tell if it had any impact on her, but it sure had an impact on him.

The lights came back on, announcing the break in the show. Ethan, albeit reluctantly, leaned back into his seat, though he was still looking at her. Her eyes, however, were trained on the stage, all the elements now clearly visible.

“If you look closely at the background, you’ll see the Aquila constellation.” He said after noticing how closely she was looking at the bright spots on the navy canvas. She turned towards him, her eyebrow up in a silent question, clearly out of her element.

Without a moment of hesitation or even thinking about what he was doing, he took her hand and guided her index finger over the sparkling dots, drawing out a shape of an eagle.

He heard people describing touching ‘the right person’ as feeling all bubbly inside. Ethan always found it irritating and downright idiotic. That is, until he touched Claire. He wouldn’t describe it in the same words (he was far too serious and smart for that), but he had an idea of what they meant. His knees went weak and his breathing got elevated. At the beginning, he felt like a fool, but as time went on, he got accustomed to it. He never got used to it, though; he wouldn’t let himself get used to it. That would mean that he also came to terms with his feelings, and at that time it was still a touchy subject.

Now, holding her hand, experiencing the symptoms didn’t scare him or make him feel uncomfortable. To his surprise, he started noticing the same reactions in her. He could hear her breathing getting faster; he could feel her pulse jumping beneath his thumb. His head turned to the side so he could look at her, the movement causing her to mirror his actions. His eyes, recklessly, dropped to her lips, lingering there for a moment too long. She opened her mouth to take a shaky breath, which worked like a charm that broke through the daze he was in. Their gazes met, his determination with her hesitation.

“Are you-“

All the remaining thoughts in her head were wiped clean the second his lips touched hers. They pressed gently and then they were gone. The look in his eyes spelled uncertainty and asked all the questions, to which she gave a barely noticeable nod. His lips are back on hers immediately, much surer this time, though still soft and careful. He’s afraid to jump into it, afraid to overwhelm her or himself with he intensity and the rush.

His other hand slid up her arm, resting on her shoulder, steadying himself against the tide that approached him. As the kiss went on, she inched closer to him, until her fingers ran up to his jaw and her knees touched his. Very faintly, they would be able to hear three warning bells, announcing the end of a break, if they had enough will to focus on anything other than one another. They didn’t notice it, though, so when the lights went out once more, they broke the kiss, surprise on their features. It took them a long moment to orient themselves in their surroundings, noticing with some difficulty that the show had started.

“What were you going to say?” he asked breathlessly, unable to keep the smile off his face. Claire’s answer took her a moment to formulate, during which she ran her thumb up and down the line of his cheekbone.

“I was going to ask if you’re ready, but you kinda answered before I could finish the question.”

“I’m nothing if not an overachiever.” He smirked, squeezing her hand gently as his face gained certainty in its features. “I am. Ready, I mean.”

She nodded softly, turning back towards the stage, pulling on his hand to bring him closer. “You better have more of those kisses for me after the show is over, then.”


End file.
